Shoulders Are From God And Burdens Too.

I Believe In Free Will. I Have No Choice.

There Must Be A Way For Man To Attain All Possible Pleasures, All The Powers And Knowledge That Nature Can Grant Him, And Still Serve God--a God Who Speaks In Deeds, Not In Words, And Whose Vocabulary Is The Cosmos.

While The Poet Entertains He Continues To Search For Eternal Truths, For The Essence Of Being. In His Own Fashion He Tries To Solve The Riddle Of Time And Change, To Find An Answer To Suffering, To Reveal Love In The Very Abyss Of Cruelty And Injustice. Strange As These Words May Sound I Often Play With The Idea That When All The Social Theories Collapse And Wars And Revolutions Leave Humanity In Utter Gloom, The Poet--whom Plato Banned From His Republic--may Rise Up To Save Us All.

When A Human Kills An Animal For Food, He Is Neglecting His Own Hunger For Justice. Man Prays For Mercy, But Is Unwilling To Extend It To Others. Why Should Man Then Expect Mercy From God? It's Unfair To Expect Something That You Are Not Willing To Give.

There Are 500 Reasons I Write For Children.... Children Read Books, Not Reviews. They Don't Give A Hoot About The Critics.... They Don't Read To Free Themselves Of Guilt, To Quench Their Thirst For Rebellion, Or To Get Rid Of Alienation. They Still Believe In God, The Family, Angels, Devils, Witches, Goblins, Logic, Clarity, Punctuation, And Other Such Obsolete Stuff.... They Don't Expect Their Beloved Writer To Redeem Humanity. Young As They Are, They Know That It Is Not In His Power. Only The Adults Have Such Childish Illusions.